


Making a mistake

by OhhMyy



Series: Coming Back To Life. [29]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7761580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhhMyy/pseuds/OhhMyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was him who'd ended it, but he couldn't bear the thought of being without her. He struggled especially with the idea of her being without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To protect you

**Author's Note:**

> This is finally joined into the series, but was originally published in August 2016, which means a) we're finally getting somewhere and b) I am the slowest author alive.

It all felt wrong. It had felt wrong as soon as the “yes” escaped her lips when Mike from security had asked her out to dinner. It felt wrong even as she smiled at him as she beat a hasty retreat, felt wrong as she ran back to the safety of the Avengers living quarters, to Steve’s door and both wrong and pathetic as she explained through tears to a concerned Captain America that she… had a date. 

It definitely felt wrong as she pulled the bottom of the black dress down to her knees, because despite how much it made her head spin to be going on a date that wasn’t with Bucky, despite how much it made the back of her throat burn and the back of her eyes sting, he didn’t want her anymore. 

When he’d said she was better off without him she’d fought tooth and nail to make him see how wrong he was. He’d said he was dangerous, she snarked a retort about living with the Avengers and called him an idiot. He’d gently told her it just wouldn’t work and she’d brandished him a coward whilst holding in sobs that kept trying to escape. Finally he’d snapped that he didn’t want to be with her and though she knew he was lying, could see it written plainly on his pained face as he gritted the words out, that was the one she decided she had more self-worth than to try and fight against. His heart broke with the idea that he'd won because she honestly believed him.

-

She’d spent the first week wrapped in the safety of her bed (Tony, ever a constant in her life who seemed to know what she needed before she did had had her room cleaned, all traces of Barnes removed, knowing she’d want to smell him on her sheets but being acutely aware it wasn’t what she needed). She cried into her pillow, various comforting hands rubbing circles on her back at different times, sometimes she napped tightly against Natasha, sometimes Steve brought snacks, Clint brought bad movies and scooted her to one side of the bed to claim the other as his own. Wanda had even offered to calm her mind, but she’d refused. 

Bucky did largely the same but let nobody in, not even Steve, though he did respond to messages asking about his well-being (it was, even for the Winter Solider, polite to let friends know you’d not perished) and had texted Steve more than once to ask about her. 

Week two comes with an appearance from Bucky at the breakfast table and a pile of clean clothes being thrown at Charlie by Natasha with a gentle and firm “Time to get up now Lev”. Things go back to some semblance of normalcy after that first week, the group spend more time together without having to make trips to check on the member of their family who are struggling. Movie night is quieter than usual and neither Bucky nor Charlie participate in games night, but there is less stress. 

On week three she cracks a laugh when Bruce spills popcorn on Thor’s lap and the sound makes her stop in her tracks, realizing it sounds so unfamiliar but she fakes the biggest smile she can manage to hide her sadness at that thought. Everything is normal. Bucky is quiet, but he’s never been the biggest talker and aside from looking downcast when he casts his eyes towards her things are normal. Normal sounds like a horrible way to describe what either of them feels, but without any discussion both seem to have decided to fake it till they make it. 

It shocks her out of the comfort she’s slowly found her way back to then, when on week four Mike from security, tall with broad shoulders and a short blonde buzz cut, asks her for dinner. Mike is nice, has always been friendly to her and has on more than one occasion stopped her for a conversation on her way in or out of the tower. Her mind registers three words before the “yes” slips out; safe, kind and simple. Mike had never been an option, had never even been a thought but it briefly registers that maybe a break from insane shenanigans with villains and heroes is a good thing and the “yes” is out before she’s actually contemplated that she might not want to go. 

-

“It’s just a date” Steve reassures her, heart breaking for both his best friend of over 80 years and this weeping woman he has come to consider family. He has the privilege (and annoyance at times) of being close to both, hearing both sides of the story when it’s good and when it’s bad but even he knows his friend screwed up and as much as he wants them to work things out, he understands (finally) that you can’t put life on hold for what ifs and maybes. 

“Go out for dinner, have fun, you deserve a nice night out if nothing else”. 

She consults Tony, who tells her the same, pulls her in for a hug, kisses her on the cheek and insists he be allowed to buy her a new dress (he may have given Mike a good talking to, but Tony is going to pretend that didn’t happen and hope Charlie never finds out).

So she pulls the black dress down, touches up her red lipstick and checks her makeup in the mirror before taking a deep breath and closing the door to her apartment as she steps out. 

The downside of living in the Avengers Tower is surprisingly not the amount of testosterone or cleaning up; it’s not even that Thor breaks things a lot or that Tony has no sense of privacy. It could be, she reasons, the persistent threat of…well threats. But no, it’s definitely that everyone knows everything about everyone else’s business, and that leaving the Tower without being seen proves an impossible task when you live with assassins and spies. 

Bucky looks up from his coffee at the sound of heels on the floor, glancing up quickly before doing a double take when he realizes who the heels belong to. He reasons quickly that if it were girls night she wouldn’t be alone, that she’s too dressed up and too late for anything business related and that she’s wearing her first date shoes (sexy but comfortable she’d told him on theirs). His heart drops and he bangs his mug on the counter much harder than intended, she stops and turns to look at him. He raises a small apologetic smile.

“You look nice, Doll” He says, eyes focused on her and the small smile still on his face, he means the compliment even if he hopes she can’t tell the smile is faked. 

“Thank you Ja…Bucky, I um…I have a date” He knew already, knew as soon as he looked at her but her confirmation hits him like a blade of ice to the chest and he inhales sharply. It takes him a moment, a horrible moment filled with tense silence, to gather his thoughts and tear his gaze away before calming his breathing and looking back up at her

“I hope you have a nice time” He’s not lying, he wants her to be happy but he wants her too. There’s a dark voice in the back of his mind taunting him, reminding him whose fault this is, that he’s an idiot. She nods politely, a brief smile as she clenches her clutch bag close and turns towards to elevator.

“Charlie” He calls out softly just as the doors open and she turns her head to look back at him, raising an eyebrow.

He pauses, wants to say more but has no idea what, almost wants to beg her not to go but that's unfair for both of them. After years of being reckless and ruthless, he values being able to take the time to consider things now and on the side of ex-assassin versus Mr. probably not ex-assassin he considers her safety largely better with the other guy, or alone, but not with him.

“Be safe” 

“I will” she gives him another small smile as she steps in, watches him as the doors close in front of her face and wills the tears to stay behind her eyes as she heads for the ground floor.


	2. Decisions, Decisions.

He’s still sitting at the counter when she comes home and he hears her shoes before he sees her. She’s walking slowly, he can tell from her footsteps. He’s not even going to pretend he wasn’t waiting for her safe arrival, hoping simultaneously that she comes in with a beaming smile and that it was a horrible date. 

He hears the cry torn from her throat at the exact moment he sees her coming around the corner, one hand on the wall as she pauses and the other wiping at her eyes as tears cascade down her cheeks.

He’s up from his seat in an instant, all ponderings leaving his mind as he beelines for her. She’s not heard him yet and she moves the hand from her face down shakily to remove her heels. She gets one off before he reaches her. 

“Doll?” She startles, wobbling on one foot as his hands dance in front of him, wanting to check her for injuries but being terrified of not having his touch welcomed. She removes her other shoe quickly and wipes her eyes before letting out a dark and quiet chuckle.

“Sorry, I bet I look a right mess”. 

He’s looking her over, there’s no blood or bruises but his mind is racing and his blood is boiling and his words come out harsher than he intends.

“Don’t apologise! Are you alright? Did you he hurt you?” He pauses, fists clenching as his mind wanders over possibilities he doesn’t want to be picturing “I’ll fucking kill him if he touched you”, his eyes are burning and he looks at her with such intensity that if the worry in his eyes didn’t take her breath away she’d want to bark a laugh.

She places a hand on his, warm and fleshy (comforting she thinks), arm and gives a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay James, thank you” She misses the slip of his name and removes her hand, picking up her heels and putting them down to the side of the sofa in the living room, he watches her from the same position as she sits down, notices how tense her shoulders are. When she puts her head in her hands and lets out another shaky cry, quiet because she’s trying to silence herself, he moves closer, coming to a stop in front of her, crouching.

He gently reaches up and takes hold of her hands, pulling them away from her face, her makeup is ruined, mascara on her cheeks and eyes shimmering with tears and eye shadow, he still thinks she looks beautiful. She is not a person to show her emotions easily, she is not, and has never been, a woman who cries without reason. His heart is pounding in his chest but the anger is kept simmering by concern. 

“Doll” He rubs his thumb gently over her knuckles, waits until she looks him in the eyes before continuing “I need to know if he hurt you”. He needs it, doesn’t want the information but he’s already thinking of different ways to hide a body and he’s almost certain he’d not be the only member of the team who’d want in on it.

“No, he didn’t” She gives a watery smile and takes her hands away from him slowly, leans forward and places a feather light kiss to his cheek before leaning back slightly, elbows on her knees. He reaches an arm out and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, waits patiently for her to continue.

“Honestly Bucky, I’m okay, he didn’t do anything. Just give me a minute, please?” He winces inwardly at having gone back to Bucky and he isn’t sure if she means a minute to compose herself or to be alone so he lifts back into standing position and heads to the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water. 

He can hear her laboured breathing from the kitchen even as the tap runs and it takes every bit of willpower he has not to run from the building and beat the shit out of Mr. probably not ex-assassin but very possible asshole, because even if he hasn’t hurt her he doesn’t think any woman should come home from a date in tears. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself as he shuts the tap off.

He sets the water on coffee table and goes back to his crouching position. His anger has faded to confusion and she scoffs when she locks eyes with him and sees it on his face.

“God, I’m so pathetic” She’s laughing continuously now and he’s definitely no closer to understanding what’s happening. He must look like a lost puppy because she finally puts him out of his misery.

“I had a lovely time, really. He was sweet and funny and when he kissed me goodnight I cried in his mouth” She lets out a laugh so loud he actually worries about waking the others for a split second before remembering how amazing the tower he lives in is. He can’t help but smile at her laughter, everything feels very surreal.

“You’re a prick, Barnes” He raises an eyebrow at her, but she’s still smiling, “You’ve ruined me”, he’s not sure if he should apologize but he’s pretty sure his face is smirking, he can definitely feel a smirk there and it takes him a brief moment to come to the conclusion that he feels guilty. 

The air changes suddenly and both of them are quiet, Charlie takes in a breath and looks into his eyes, her face has turned serious and her bottom lip is quivering as silent tears escape her eyes.

“What if I never get over you, Barnes?” He doesn’t have a response, not least because he doesn’t want her to, knows without a doubt he’ll never get over her, so he moves his hands up to her face and gently swipes at the tears at her cheeks. She crashes forward into his chest, arms against his t-shirt and head tucked under his chin. Her body slides off the couch to curl into him as he moves from crouching to sitting on the floor; welcomes her body against his. He puts his chin on top of her head and wraps his arms around her as her frame is wracked with sobs. 

He whispers apologies repeatedly into her hair, interspersing them with light kisses to her crown. 

It’s a whispered and hoarse “I love you” that makes her pull away, sighing and pushing herself away from the floor with more effort than it should take a lithe young woman, offering him a hand up, which he takes with his metal fingers. She runs the pad of her thumb quickly over the tips of cool steel. Even at her most vulnerable, eyes full of tears, the way she gives him comfort about his perceived shortcomings manages to warm him - making sure not to avoid the arm he tries to hide and never being afraid to touch scars both physical and emotional.

“I love you James and thank you, but I can’t let you do this to me again, you need to think about what you want because I’m not here for a repeat of the past 4 weeks” she says it quietly, almost ashamed, she wants nothing more than to curl up with him, let him wash away the pain but he’s spent the past year from friendship to love trying to make her strong and somewhere along the line he’s succeeded because she knows she might not get over him, but she can’t live second guessing them both. 

She presses another light kiss to his cheek, lingering for longer than she intended, takes what could possibly be the last inhale of his aftershave and walks around the sofa to pick up her discarded shoes before heading back to her room. 

“I will be here when you decide”


End file.
